Cassandra Teal
by flutterby cupcake
Summary: Cassandra needs help. Castiel needs a temporary vessel. And Dean has to stop trying to hit on Cassandra. Destiel fic. Not sure of the rating right now, sorry!
1. Chapter 1

Cassandra Teál was running down an empty highway, the road barely lit and the ground unstable. She was half-panting, half sobbing as she stumbled along potholes, too scared to reach down and whip off her stiletto boots. It would take too long, and her pursuer might catch up with her. She kept praying for a car to drive by, a small town to show up suddenly through the darkness and promise her respite, and sanctuary. She was growing desperate with each stumbled footstep, needing to slow down. She was sure she had twisted her ankle, her throat was burning from her exaggerated breathing, but every time she thought she was clear of danger, she could hear the footsteps behind her, his heavy breathing. She could practically hear his predatory thoughts through her fright.

_Please God, please, someone up there, please don't let him hurt me. Please save me, please. I'll do whatever you want._ She thought desperately as she pushed herself forward. And then she was scared out of her wits as someone replied. His voice was in her head, and all around, but nowhere all at once. It was calm, and authoritative, but reassuring all the same.

_If you are sincere in your request, Cassandra, then I will help you. It will help me also. But you need to put your upmost faith in me._

Of course, of course! Who are you?

They call me Castiel. And you, Cassandra, are one of my vessels. You need to stop running now.

Stop running?!

Cassandra thought tersely.

_Faith, Cassandra!_ the voice commanded. Cassandra forced herself to still, to catch her breath. Before her chaser could reach her, her body turned rigid and she screamed as an other worldly light filled her from the inside. The man who had been chasing her was blinded by the light, and the shock of the sight in front of him caused him to have a heart attack. Cassandra was still filled with divine light as Castiel inhabited her body, and could do nothing for the dying man, even if she had wanted to. He passed away in front of her. And when the light left her body, she looked down on the prone form laying on the floor.

'It's regrettable, that you should live your life the way you have, and died in this manner. But your acceptance into Heaven will not be hindered by your mistakes.' She said slowly, in a low voice. Then she drew herself up, and looked down at her feet. 'Well, those are going to take some getting used to.'

And then she zapped herself away from the dead man, and the deserted highway.

* * *

**Hey, so I haven't finished my other fanfic yet, or any of my other writing, but I've been playing around with this idea for a while. Don't know if it's been done, but I thought I'd try a different perspective on the Destiel genre. I hope you enjoy! x**


	2. Chapter 2

Sam was sat in the Men of Letters bunker, at least ten books spread in front of him with highlighter marks and pencil annotations and post-it notes all over them. Cross-referencing all his material to gather more information, as he always did, whether he was working a case or not. It was a habit he had picked up way back when he was revising for his SAT's and prepping to take on a family of werewolves with Dean and their father.

Sam hadn't heard from Dean yet that morning. Sleeping in, for once, he supposed. Or else ... no, Sam didn't want to know. He'd walked in on too many embarrassing situations with his older brother – daytime TV, crying at a romance novel one of his one-night-stands had left, pretending he was a ninja and jumping off his bed – Sam supposed he was releasing some pent up emotions, or trying to make up for the childhood they'd both missed whenever he could. Either way, he didn't want to get involved this morning. He was happy enough to drink his coffee – a great coffee, thanks to the cappuccino machine he'd installed – and do his research.

He almost didn't hear it the first time there was a knock at the door, but he was definitely aware of it the second time. He walked up the stairs quickly, sliding the gun from his waistband where he and Dean always kept them, and holding it up close as he approached the main door. Not many people knew they were based here now. Just Garth ... and Charlie ... and Castiel ... they had to stop giving away where they were staying.

He cracked the door open, and peered outside, nearly missing who was standing there as he scanned the tree line just opposite the entrance. And then he saw her, standing there confidently, her chin raised as she watched his behaviour and waited for him to stop being such a wuss. She had long, honey-blonde hair set in waves, a curvy figure, huge eyes and cheeks that had never really lost their puppy-fat. She should have been shorter than she was, but since she was wearing boots up to her knee with five-inch heels, Sam didn't have to look down too far. She was in a floral dress, accented with expensive-looking silver jewellery. She was too innocent-looking to be messed up with Sam and Dean, for sure. So why was she here?

'Are you going to let me in, Sam?' She broke the silence, her voice low and slow the way only angels seemed to speak. And she knew it was Sam, how? The most he was revealing of himself was a slither in the dark, so he could look out. And yet, she knew who he was. Definitely an angel. Crap.

'Who are you?' Sam demanded. She looked at him with an almost lazy expression, her eyelids hanging half-closed and her mouth quirked slightly as though she wanted to smile, but thought it inappropriate.

'Yes, I suppose you wouldn't recognise me. I've had to temporarily borrow a vessel-'

'Sammy? Who is it?' Dean asked as he walked through the bunker, and saw Sam standing close behind the door, blocking whoever was out there. He took the stairs two at a time, and pulled the door open so he could see for himself. Sam shot him a filthy look, as the woman smiley contently at Dean.

'Hello, Dean,' she purred. Dean looked at Sam for an answer, but Sam just shook his head, pressing his lips together.

'Am I supposed to know who the crap this is?' Dean muttered to Sam.

'Apparently. It's an angel, that's all I know.' Sam whispered back.

'I can hear you, I don't know why you're pretending I can't.' She sighed, as though she'd reminded the Winchesters of this fact many times before. Dean's eyes widened as he cottoned on to the fact, and Sam laughed nervously.

'Cas?' Sam sniggered, as Dean growled his name. The girl smiled, her whole face seemed to light up, and she considered Dean carefully.

'Yes. I'll explain everything if you let me in.'

Sam stood back, feeling completely out of his depth, but Dean seemed frozen to the spot.

'But Cas ... you're a dude.' He managed to splutter. The girl blinked twice, frowning slightly as her smile faded.

'Dean, I am an angel of the Lord, I do not manifest as either gender. My kind do not reproduce in the same way as yours, and therefore I do not identify as male or female.' She explained patiently, staring at Dean with an expression that reminded him strongly of the Castiel he knew.

'I'm freaking out,' Dean looked at Sam as he muttered. The girl reached a hand out, and squeezed Dean's bicep gently, leaving her hand there. Dean looked down at the hand, as though by staring at it, he could remove it.

'Please, Dean, let me explain. You'll stop "freaking out" once I have told you my story.'

She smiled gently at him again, her eyes tracing over his face. Dean had no idea how to respond. This was Cas? But with a great rack and a sexy voice? No, Dean wouldn't stop freaking out any time soon. But he did manage to step back slightly from the door, and allow Castiel in. He had to fight the urge to take her hand and guide her down the stairs, and he could hear Sam sniggering again behind him, like Sam knew exactly what Dean was thinking. Sam closed the door to the bunker, and followed as Dean and Castiel headed for the sitting area, ready to hear Castiel's story of how he came to be a woman.

**A/N: Sorry this chapter is so short! I've actually written over 5100 words today, but most of that was for NaNoWriMo, and I can't count either of my stories in that. I hope you enjoy this one, it's probably going to be the raciest stuff I've ever written. So in other words, probably a little bit crap. Sorry!**


	3. Chapter 3

Dean and Sam were sat side by side on one length of the mahogany table in the middle of the Men of Letter's main room. They were both facing Cassandra, trying to accept that this petite woman was really the angel they owed their lives to, and fought against regularly. She gazed at them with the same impassive gaze that they knew so well on the other Castiel.

'So, you can't use Jimmy Novak?' Dean clarified, leaning forward on the desk as Sam reclined in his seat. Castiel shook her head. 'Because ...'

'It's not safe at the moment. Jimmy is in a secure place, he won't be harmed. But by using some of Gabriel's techniques, I was able to hide myself securely in Cassandra.'

'Cassandra?' Sam repeated, his eyebrows shooting up.

'Yes. Her name is Cassandra Teàl.'

'Her name,' Dean said weakly. 'Is Cass Teàl? Castiel? You have a vessel, and she's called Castiel?'

'I believe it's French. And the similar sounding name is purely coincidental, a practice in Serendipity, rather than some celestial interference. I certainly didn't have a hand in it.'

Dean didn't quite know how to voice his exasperation. Sam sniggered softly, hoping that Castiel's gaze would remain on Dean.

'Does my vessel make you uncomfortable, Dean?' Castiel asked, her blue-green eyes piercing through his, almost into his very soul. Dean licked his lips out of habit.

'No, Cas, what makes me uncomfortable is that you're a dude, and now you're some girl, and now I have to think of Cas the guy in Cass the girl. I'm going to be sick,' he waved his arm out, grabbing onto Sam's shoulder as he overreacted. Sam tried not to react to his brother's dramatics.

'It's just a little off-putting, Cas. It's not like getting a haircut or a new jacket. You got a whole new body.' Sam tried to explain why Dean would be so uncomfortable, although he had a sneaking suspicion there was another reason for Dean's poor reaction, and it was one he really didn't want to have to try to explain to the angel.

'It's a temporary measure,' she reassured them. 'I am still the same angel you've always known. But I don't understand, you did not react so adversely to Raphael using a female vessel when it was no longer appropriate for him to use a male vessel.'

'So ...' Sam was trying to understand how to phrase this, how to communicate any of this properly so they were all on the same page. 'Angels don't have gender the way humans do, but you still say father, and brother, and refer to each other as "he"?'

'It's the same as in the bible, my father is referred to as He, although if you saw His true form, you'd agree he was neither male, nor female, or anthropomorphic in any sense.'

'Human-like.' Sam muttered to Dean, hedging his bets that Dean hadn't understood. 'It's usually a reference to humanised animals.'

'Like werewolves?' Dean muttered back.

'Mm-hmm.' Sam was barely audible. Castiel was watching them both patiently, a trace of a smile on her full lips.

'So, is your dad a werewolf?' Dean asked Castiel, excitement evident in his voice, ignoring the small groan from Sam. Castiel frowned, the wrinkled forehead marring her pretty face.

'No, werewolves were never made in father's image. I feel we're getting off track. I need to remain in the bunker to ensure full protection until I can return to Jimmy.'

'Why can't you return to him now, and stay here under cover of the Men of Letters?' Dean practically growled.

'Because he's in a building fully protected from angels, and surrounded by salt, graveyard dirt, devils traps; the only real risk to Jimmy is another human.' Castiel began playing with a lock of hair, and Dean pushed away from the table roughly, walking to his room without explanation. His actions only confirmed Sam's suspicions. Castiel watched him leave.

'Have I offended Dean?' She worried, cocking her head to the side. Sam bit back another snigger.

'No. Dean's having a hard time associating you with your vessel, that's all. You have to admit, it's weird. What if Dean or I were in different bodies? Would you recognise our true souls for what they are?'

'Of course. That's how I can always answer when you call,' Castiel smiled sweetly. Sam let out a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding.

'You answer our souls?'

'Something like that,' Castiel nodded. 'Sam, I am finding this new vessel is taking some getting used to also. I have the strangest emotion right now. The best I can explain it is that I need new shoes, but I don't understand the need, the shoes on my feet are perfectly adequate. They add height.'

'That's not in my ball park,' Sam admitted. 'I guess Cassandra loves clothes?'

'I think she did,' Castiel agreed. 'She thinks your shirt is hideous.'

Sam's smirk was wiped from his face.

'Maybe you should talk to Dean?' Sam suggested, before heading to his room to change his shirt. 

Dean was perched on the edge of his bed when Castiel came into the room, her heels clicking on the stone floor. She smoothed the skirt out as she sat down, and Dean paused from polishing his bowie knife to look at her.

'Dean-'

'Don't,' he put the knife carefully back in its position on the wall, turning to the pretty girl sitting quietly on his bed, looking up at him with that happy-go-lucky expression that seemed endearing on Castiel's other vessel. On Cassandra, it was practically an invitation. Dean swallowed hard. 'Look, I'm not going to ask about why you need to hide Jimmy, or why you had to leave him for a week. I don't ask you for a lot these days, Cas. But did you have to pick her?'

Castiel cocked her head to the side, her blonde curls tumbling over her shoulder.

'Don't do that.' Dean growled.

'I don't understand,' Castiel said eventually. 'Your words and tone are threatening, but the emotions I feel coming from you contradict what you're saying.'

Dean sighed, rubbing a hand over his head and down his face. He wasn't going to win, he could tell that already. He decided to cut his losses.

'You're very pretty, Cas,' he mumbled. Castiel beamed at him.

'That's very kind of you to say, Dean.'

Dean nodded.

'Uh-huh, can you get out of my room now? I need some me time.'

'I understand. I will entertain myself,' Castiel stood up, holding lightly onto Dean's arm, reaching her chin up and kissing Dean gently, just below his jawline, which was as high as she could reach. Colour flushed Dean's face as Castiel left the room, and his eyes followed her progress out of the door and around the corner. He flopped face-forward onto his bed, groaning to himself.

This wasn't good. How was he possibly going to control himself around Castiel when Cas looked like that? For any amount of time? Did ... did this make Dean gay?


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hey! So, NaNoWriMo is over (I finished the month on 55,667 words!) and I'm back on this. And now I understand ratings on this site a little more, I am changing the ratings on this one. Sorry for how it ends, but I don't like doing clichés and I felt I was heading that way. Also, I am crap at editing my own writing – aren't we all? And I've noticed I've made some silly typos in this fic in the other chapters, so if anyone would like to Beta for me, please let me know! As I ever, I really appreciate any and all feedback. Thank you x**

* * *

Dean had finally left his room in the bunker, heading to the kitchen to make some lunch. He had just about gotten over the shock of Castiel's new vessel, had almost convinced himself that he wasn't so turned on by her presence. He wasn't even going to address the question of ethics, and whether making a move on her was making a move on the angel, or whether it was against her consent – he was just going to shut it from his mind. He wasn't going to touch her, it was as simple as that.

Sam walked in as Dean was serving up the food, his head still buried in a book, and he sat at the table without even looking at Dean.

'What are you even reading?' Dean asked as he slid a plate in front of his brother.

'The Men of Letters were fascinating, Dean. I want to know all their secrets.' Sam picked up a French fry, chewing on it as he carried on reading. Dean sat opposite him, waiting for his brother to show any signs of interacting over their meal, but Sam kept the book propped up in front of them. Dean rolled his eyes, and went to the fridge to grab a beer, halting and breathing deeply as he found Castiel standing there.

'Cas, give me some warning!' He growled, wrenching the fridge door open and pulling out a couple of bottles, snapping the lids off as he crossed back to the table. Sam lowered his book slightly as Dean slammed one bottle down on the table, and started gulping the other one. He finished the first beer in moments, and started on the second one at a slower pace. Sam smirked, and raised the book higher, missing the moment that Castiel slid into the seat beside Dean's.

'Have I done something to annoy you, Dean?' Castiel asked softly, shaking her hair back, away from her face. Dean's eyes followed the cascade of curls, now no longer drinking his beer. He lowered the bottle with a slightly shaking hand, and Sam lowered the book again.

'I'm going to go … eat in the other room,' Sam stated, but it seemed to be all for nothing. Neither Dean, nor Castiel, were paying him any attention. He left the room quickly, trying to concentrate on the text in front of him rather than the odd sexual tension in the kitchen, and what could possibly come of it. He didn't want to imagine his brother and the angel – no. He was _not_ going to go there.

These were Dean's sentiments. Although everything in his being was demanding that he make a move on Castiel right now, that he give himself that release, he was trying to be firm with himself. It wasn't the real Castiel, not in that sense. Castiel, as Dean knew him – HIM – would be back soon, and it was only a question of keeping his willpower in check for a few more days. Days. Geez, Dean would be impressed at this rate if he managed the _hour_.

'Dean?' Castiel pushed, her voice gentle. Dean closed his eyes and swallowed, hard. If only her voice wasn't as seductive as her face or voice! He tried picturing the Castiel he knew, the one who lived in Jimmy, who never made him outright question his ethics. She laid a hand on his shoulder, and he knew he was weakening. Forget the hour, how was Dean meant to last five minutes?

'Cas, can you give me some space?' Dean growled again, trying to keep himself in check. Castiel's hand lifted from his shoulder, but he could still sense it, hovering maybe an inch above his skin.

'I don't understand what it is I've done,' she sounded confused, and rather than putting him off, the sound and tone of her voice hit Dean right in the groin, and he lost control of himself, twisting roughly in his seat, and pulling her close, giving her no time to think before pushing his lips roughly on hers. She didn't respond, too shocked by Dean's sudden onslaught to do anything more than sit there and let Dean crush his lips against hers, his hands squeezing her upper arms as he pulled her towards him.

Only a few things computed at first. The taste of cherries and vanilla on her lips, the softness of her mouth, the smell of vanilla on her skin. And then slowly, more facts computed in Dean's head, and he began gaining some of his rationale. She wasn't kissing him back, she wasn't letting him take this further than surface level. She wasn't responding in any way. And, most importantly, she was Castiel's temporary vessel, and he was kissing both his best friend, and a total stranger who would not be able to give her consent to anything during the time Dean would know her.

He reeled back, letting go of her quickly, and left the room. His food was still untouched, and Castiel looked at the meal as she tried to work out what was going on in Dean's mind. Castiel wished he could have called on Cassandra's interpretation, but she had agreed to give him full use of her body for the duration that he needed it. She made her way, instead, to where she knew Sam had gone, and found him hunched over another four books, chewing absent-mindedly on his burger.

'Sam?' She asked. Sam didn't look up from the books, but muttered an "mmm-hmmm" before swallowing. 'Perhaps you could help me. I find Dean … confusing at the moment. He seems angry with me all the time, but just now he-'

Sam looked up quickly, his expression alone cutting Castiel off mid-speech. Sam's face straightened out, and he sighed, trying to relax himself. He really did not want to know how far Dean had gone, or how quickly.

'It's pretty simple, Cas. Dean's attracted to Cassandra, but he knows it's you in there. You're giving him some confusing messages.'

'Oh,' she thought for a moment, before leaning forward, over Sam's books. 'Should I perhaps have returned the advancement of relations that Dean put forward?'

Sam tried to make sense of the question, but the subtext became clear before the words did. He raised his eyebrows in surprise.

'Well,' Sam began, wondering how he ended up giving an angel love advice on his brother. 'Do you feel like you should have? Do you have romantic feelings for him? Because dude, Dean's confused. Kissing him back could be seen as you taking advantage of him.'

Castiel frowned again, obviously contemplating what Sam was trying to say. Sam took the opportunity to evade the entire conversation, and get back to his research.

'Cas? Maybe you need to be talking to Dean about this. It's probably the best way of knowing what he's thinking. Don't let him avoid you, and don't let him sulk his way out of the conversation. You might feel better?'

Castiel nodded, and looked happier with the situation now she had a logical solution.

'That seems like the best way forward. Thank you, Sam.'

Sam had already turned back to his books, and barely seemed to hear her, let alone acknowledge her. She skipped back over to Dean's room, knowing he had gone there, and knocked lightly, waiting for Dean to answer. He did, looking like he had sunk a few more beers in the interim. They stared at each other for a few seconds, before Dean pulled Castiel close, kissing her again, gentler than the time before, and groaning as she kissed back. He closed his door, and pressed her against it, his fingers running up her thighs and under her waistline. She arched her back, pressing her skin into his, both of them forgetting their real situation in favour of the adrenaline and emotions flooding through them. Dean started kissing down her chin, and her throat, along her chest bone and in between her breasts, his hands easing their way into her underwear, as she wrapped her legs around him, clutching him closer to him, as though they could be in the same body and still not be close enough. They were both gasping for air, moaning incoherently, as Dean pressed her closer into the door, removing the hand in her underwear and using it to support her as he worked his way out of his jeans. Castiel started pulling off her dress, discarding it sloppily before grabbing Dean's face and kissing him harder. He unbalanced, and staggered backwards until they fell on the bed in a messy, giggling heap. They paused for a moment, before crashing together again, discarding more clothes, crawling under the covers of Dean's bed, their hands restless on each other's bodies, their mouths searching deeper into each others, desperate for more.


	5. Chapter 5

Dean woke slowly, his brain feeling fuzzy as he blinked his eyes open. Something had changed, and it took him a moment to work out what.

He'd gone to bed with a girl, he remembered that much. It had been, he was pretty sure, some of the best sex of his life, frantic and sweaty but different to the slew of girls he normally worked his way through. They'd connected in a way that Dean hadn't reckoned on, that was for sure. He reached out a hand, but all he could feel were bedsheets. She'd left the bed.

That was what was wrong. Dean couldn't remember a time when a woman had walked out on him, and it wasn't a feeling he enjoyed. Especially when they'd had such a good time together the night before. He stumbled out of his room, and looked for Sam, who had retreated to his own bedroom, where he was reading a book in an armchair.

'Do you ever do anything but read?' Dean greeted him. Sam looked up briefly, before turning a page.

'If it makes you feel better, this isn't research. It's reading for fun.' He tilted the book so that Dean could see Stephen King's name splashed across the book jacket.

'Yeah, that doesn't make me feel better. Hey, um, you haven't seen-'

'She's gone exploring the bunker. I think she might be watching TV actually.' Sam shrugged. 'Did she talk to you?'

Dean leaned against the door frame, trying to look casual as he fitted his hands in his pockets.

'That's one way of putting it.' He grinned. Sam's eyes swept up to look at him, his head still bent towards the book. He took in Dean's smile, and put the book onto a side table, groaning.

'Dean, you didn't? You and Cas?'

Dean's smile turned sheepish, and Sam had a moment of doubt, that perhaps Dean had forgotten who exactly the girl in their bunker was. But then Dean started talking, and Sam realised that Dean knew exactly who she was.

'I know, and it sounds disgusting when you think about it like that, but I don't know man, when Cas is in Cass … this might be the best week of my life.'

'And what happens at the end of the week?' Sam pointed out. 'What happens when Cas goes back to Jimmy and Cassandra is just a woman who we've never actually met? What are we going to tell her? What are you going to do about Jimmy? I mean, come on, were you screwing Cass because she was pretty, or … you know what? Never mind.'

Sam returned to his book, missing Dean's shoulders sagging in relief. Because Dean was trying not to question what had gone on, what was between Castiel and himself. And honestly, he didn't see the need to right then. He had a few days before Castiel could return to Jimmy to make his mind up about what was going on between them. For now, Dean just planned to enjoy every moment that Castiel was in this vessel.

He made his way through the bunker, and found Castiel sitting primly on a sofa, cocking her head slightly as she watched a sitcom play out. Dean smile to himself as he watched her for a few moments, and then crossed the room, sitting next to her. She spoke, without turning to face him.

'Is this how humans often react in romantic situations?'

At first, Dean thought she meant the situation between them, but as he looked at the television screen, he realised she was referring to the episode.

'Nah, Cas, they're trying to play out a few weeks in a half-hour. They can't be realistic.'

'Good. I didn't think you had much in common with the Moseby man.'

Dean looked at her carefully, and she turned to smile at him, her expression as innocent as ever. And he couldn't help himself, he slid a hand up her cheek, into her hair, pulling her close and kissing her gently. Castiel kissed him back, her fingertips holding onto the edge of his chin gently. And Dean didn't want to admit it, but even just that touch was turning him on again. He pulled away from the kiss reluctantly.

'Hey, so, um,' he babbled incoherently. 'Why did you get out of bed?'

Castiel nuzzled her head against his.

'You were asleep, I didn't want to disturb you. You looked very peaceful.'

'Well, thanks Cas, but I think I'd like waking up next to you.'

Castiel beamed with happiness, and kissed Dean again with renewed enthusiasm, pushing him back into the cushions in her excitement. He laughed into her kiss, his hands pushing her hair away from his face where her tresses were tickling him.

'God, are you ready for round two already?' Dean whispered in between kisses. Castiel sat back slightly.

'What do you mean by round two?'

Dean grinned, and wound his arms around her, standing up smoothly despite how much effort it must have taken, and walking with Castiel wrapped around his waist towards his bedroom. He figured it was better there, where Sam was less likely to walk in and see things he wasn't expecting, and probably things, Dean considered, that Sam hadn't done.

* * *

Dean lay stretched along his bed, Castiel curled up on him, stroking her fingers along his chest.

'Dean, I'm trying to understand something,' Castiel spoke up unexpectedly. Dean looked down at her curls, kissing the top of her head. 'I'm trying to understand what has changed between us. You're being very physical, and although it's pleasurable I don't think I comprehend why we're suddenly having sex.'

'Wow Cas, way to get to the point,' Dean sighed, rubbing his face with the hand not curled around Castiel. She looked up at him, blinking her huge eyes and biting her lip in a way that Dean thought was positively dangerous.

'Is it the vessel? Is it Cassandra that you're attracted to? Are you … are you thinking about me at all?'

* * *

**A/N: hey, sorry it's such a short update, and it's been so long since I updated anything! After I finished NaNo, I swear all writing stories left me for a month … or maybe it was working in retail over Christmas? Anyway, I'm doing a new writing challenge, called 100k in 100 days, and unlike NaNo, you can include any writing project you have. I will finish Sammy, Cassandra Teal and Gank The Teacher (my three fanfics currently going) before the end of the 100 days! I hope anyway, I completely forgot the plot line for Sammy ...**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Sorry for doing these like, every chapter. I just wanted to acknowledge that I dropped the rating back to T. I haven't grown the balls I had wanted to. I write suggestion better than erotica, I guess. To me, that's sexier anyway? Hope it doesn't stop you reading, this will still be pretty much fluff. Hopefully, in-character fluff. Also, I've had a new idea for a Cas fic, but I want to get some of these unfinished ones completed first!**

* * *

'You, Cas, you are … you're like family. But right now, you're like the hot cousin or something. Am I making sense to you right now?'

Castiel looked up at Dean, smiling blandly, and Dean could tell she had no idea what he was actually talking about.

'Okay, look Cas, I know it's you. I know that I wouldn't have had half the fun I've had in the last few hours if it wasn't you. Hell, your vessel would probably be gone by now, some long forgotten memory. I just can't look into it too deeply right now, okay?'

Castiel nodded unsurely, and Dean hugged her tighter against his chest.

'I understand that you're having some kind of difficulty, Dean. I keep forgetting that to you, I look so different. When to me, you're exactly the same.'

Dean smiled to himself, and started stroking Castiel's curls as she hugged closer to him.

'But you're happy right now, aren't you?' Castiel broke the silence that had fallen between them.

'Right now? Yeah, I guess I am. I mean, we found this bunker, I have my own room, and I have my two favourite people exactly where I want them. I'm real happy, Cas.'

He felt Castiel kiss his chest, in a show of gratitude that neither of them could have anticipated. Dean shifted on the bed, bringing his face level with Castiel's. For a moment, that seemed to last forever to the both of them, they stared into each others eyes. The seemed to want to tell each other exactly what they meant, while hesitating to share anything for fear of breaking their already tenuous relationship. And then Dean was shifting closer, slowly moving forward towards the angel, who mirrored his body language almost perfectly. They kissed again, but this kiss was different. The others hand all been leading to an explosion of passion, urgent and grabby and desperate. But this one, this kiss was gentle, and tentative, with an undercurrent of understanding, of fear, of trust.

Dean would never admit it out loud, but it was probably the best kiss of his life. And it was with Castiel. And it seemed to be going on, making time meaningless, because the world was standing still while they were joined in a kiss that had the potential to go on for eternity.

They eventually pulled away, seeming to agree at the same time that they should, and Castiel started talking, slowly and in a hushed voice, stroking a finger lazily around Dean's chest as she did.

'I rarely wish for anything that my father gave humans that he did not give my brothers and me. But when we connect the way we have in the past twenty-four hours … I wish I had a soul. I wish I had something that I could devote to you, as soulmates do when they dedicate their lives to one another. I have envied your freedom and the choices that you are able to make, but never in a way that made me wish I could give up all I have for you, not like this. It's a strange emotion, and one I'm not sure how to deal with. But I am grateful, for the deepening of our connection. We really do have a profound bond.'

She waited a moment, but could only feel the rise and fall of Dean's chest as he breathed slowly underneath her. She looked up, expecting him to have fallen asleep, but he was gazing down at her, his expression blank.

'Dean? Have I said something inappropriate?'

Dean shook his head slowly, still not giving anything away.

'Then what's wrong? You haven't expressed an opinion.'

Dean continued gazing down at her.

'I didn't want to ruin the moment. And anyway, who says you don't have a soul?'

Castiel sighed, snuggling once more into Dean's chest.

'That's one of the kindest things you have ever said to me Dean. Thank you, I appreciate it. If I could dedicate my grace to you, or my wings, or even my halo, I would.'

Dean bit back a laugh, which Castiel could feel rippling underneath her.

'You have a halo?'

'It's not visible to humans. Sorry.'

'So, is it like, laying on me?' Dean was still forcing back the laughter.

'In a sense. Dean, your attempts to resist laughing are doing strange things to my vessel. I'm not sure that I am enjoying the sensation.'

Dean burst out with laughter.

'I think you're enjoying it a lot more than you think you are,' Dean teased, wrapping her in a tight hug again. He kissed her through her hair, and leaned closer in to whisper, 'I think I'm going to go to sleep now. Stay with me?'

Castiel nodded, snuggling against Dean's side as he slowly nodded off.

* * *

Sam put his book down, rubbing a hand over his face. He was tired of reading, tired of using it as an excuse to avoid Dean and Castiel and whatever was going on between them. He took a chance on them being occupied in Dean's room, and crept out of the bunker, climbing up the mound above the front door, where he found Castiel sitting, her head bowed and hands clasped daintily together. He was about to turn and go back into the bunker, maybe use the bathroom or grab something to eat, but she spoke without turning around.

'It's okay, Sam. I was thinking, not praying.'

Sam scuttled forward, and settled on the leaf-strewn ground next to her.

'What are you thinking about?' Sam asked, then mentally kicked himself. He really didn't need to hear Castiel talking about Dean as though he was some shiny new toy, or talk about the sex that they'd obviously been having.

'I was thinking about souls. They still baffle me, even after seeking purgatory, fighting Raphael, you losing yours. But as incomprehensible as they seem to be, I do wish I had one of my own.'

Sam's shoulders sagged in relief. He could deal with this topic.

'Well, Cas, it'll sound crazy but, how do you know you don't have one?'

Castiel looked at him, blinking her huge eyes.

'I'm an angel.' She said simply. Sam smirked briefly, and straightened his expression.

'I know, I know, but you haven't always been an angel. I mean, you were losing your mojo when the Apocalypse was approaching, you've had your juice taken out before, and she still existed. So what was left?'

Castiel turned away from him, and Sam thought she was considering the question.

'I was an angel with no gifts from heaven. I was an insult, a reject, and a traitor.'

'Sounds pretty human to me. I mean, yeah, you messed up, Cas, but you always felt guilt, you always wanted retribution for your mistakes. And they were mistakes, you're not a bad … angel,' Sam had almost said 'a bad guy'. 'Maybe underneath it all, you have the angel version of a soul.'

'Thank you, Sam,' she nodded gravely. 'That's a similar sentiment to the one that Dean expressed. It's nice that you both have so much faith in me.'

She gave a small half-smile, and Sam found himself beaming back at her, opening his mouth, and making things just that much more uncomfortable for himself.

'So, you and Dean are talking?'

'In between the intercourse, yes.' Sam's expression flattened out, and Castiel carried on regardless. 'Was there any indication that Dean didn't want to communicate with me?'

Sam was hoping the ground would swallow him whole, but he fought his way through the conversation.

'Well, yeah, you came to me for advice, remember? And the next thing I know, you're in his room and hours passed. Did he screw your brains out, or something?'

Sam had meant the last question rhetorically, but Castiel had obviously failed to master that nuance of the English language.

'No, there was no hardware involved. Just sex.'

'Does that not feel weird? Having sex with Dean? I mean, this time next week you'll look like Jimmy again and I'm just worried you're both going to get hurt by this.'

Castiel didn't reply, and continued to stare at the fields in front of them instead, her hair flicking back in the breeze. Sam chose not to press the issue further, hoping he was correct in interpreting Castiel's silence as concern for her relationship – his relationship – for the way Castiel felt about Dean. She stood after a few minutes of silence between them.

'Dean will be stirring soon. He has expressed a wish to wake up with me there. If what you're implying is true, then in this week I do not wish to provide him with a reason to become angry with me. Maybe the change into Jimmy again will become easier for him if he remembers this week with fondness.'

Castiel disappeared before Sam's eyes, and Sam knew she had zapped herself straight to Dean's side. He felt like he had missed an opportunity to let Castiel know that, even though her plans had the best of intentions, they also carried the greater potential for hurt. And the last thing Sam wanted to face was Dean and Castiel's dual heartache.


End file.
